<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>It had never been simple by Catullus_true_bicon</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018765">It had never been simple</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catullus_true_bicon/pseuds/Catullus_true_bicon'>Catullus_true_bicon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>19th Century CE RPF, Classical Music RPF, Historical RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(as I said Franz pining from afar for our little Frycek), It's very loosely inspired by Provencal lyric, M/M, Pining, This is basically Franz pining throughout the entire chapter lol, more specifically amor de lonh which means love from afar, pining Franz Liszt, thoughts, we'll I don't know what to tag this so enjoy!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:21:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catullus_true_bicon/pseuds/Catullus_true_bicon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Poor little Franz is pining for Frédéric and this is his train of thought on the matter</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frédéric Chopin/Franz Liszt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It had never been simple</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this this morning but THEN...I FORGOT TO SAVE THE DRAFT AND HAD TO START ALL OVER AGAIN JSKSJ imo the first version was better rip</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had never been simple.</p><p> </p><p>He was so complex, he had never been able to fully understand him.</p><p> </p><p>He could grace you with a smile warm like the summer air, a childish gaze filled with serenity, a feathery touch, delicate like the petals of a flower, and illuminate your whole existence, suddenly engulfing you in a dimention all of his own; a dimention so sweet and perfect, able to feed your spirit and make you feel fulfilled by his mere vicinity. You would leave all things earthly to spend eternity in the ethereal world concealed inside him, knowing that you would need no more for all that is desirable you obtained. He showed you what he could offer you but all the same, like a swift wind he could rip all that away from you with a cold stare, guarded and diffident, like an insurmountable wall; he could mercilessly push you away with a tight smile and leave you in the dark, shivering, starved of the ambrosia you tasted: now nothing could ever satisfy you for you will never find rays as bright and warm as the ones behind that wall anywhere else. You entered paradise with nothing but a meager silent promise of love and left completely bare of anything at all: all you ever had you gave to him and in the process you unknowingly vowed to never have it back, promised your whole soul to him without thinking about yourself. He stripped you of your own being and yet you don't mind because the miniscule hope buried in the deep meanders of your heart tells you that if you linger you will eventually see the sun and that is enough to make you stay.</p><p> </p><p>It had never been simple but that wouldn't stop him from loving the sublime and mysterious being that was Frédéric Chopin</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>